Irregular Rhythm
by Shadowswhisper1013
Summary: Rachel will never get over Finn completely and she has gradually come to accept that, but she didn't really mean to fall in love the second time. Especially not when her heart wasn't completely ready for another wound. - A oneshot about Rachel's friendship (and mini romance) with Santana.


_Something that hit me when my friend said, "I really want Santana and Rachel to make up. I don't like it when they fight!" It's not perfect and I don't know if it went where I wanted it to, but hey._

* * *

It was a gradual thing but Rachel did notice it as it was happening. She shouldn't have snapped either, and maybe if she hadn't, everything would be different (or that's what she's going to tell herself).

It started after Finn died and that's how Rachel's mental timeline works. There's when Finn was alive, and after he died. Rachel was absolutely sure her heart was broken to the point of no return and she'd never fall in love again. The love of her life _died_ after all.

She would sit, Indian style, in the middle of her bed, wondering whether she should lay on Finn's side, or her side. Tears leaking from her eyes, heartbeat telling a story- a love story that's always left unfinished.

Sometimes she'd just be angry and dig her nails into the palms of her hands and glare at nothing in particular.

Rachel would try and try to calm herself down but never succeeded. There were nights where sleep wasn't an option and nights where she couldn't stop the dreams of Finn and of drowning in her own tears. She's not sure when the dreams changed from a tall, muscular man to a smaller, slender, curvy woman.

On one of those nights where she sat, debating left (Finn's side) or right, Santana crept into her room, tears decorating her own cheeks. Rachel didn't look at her. Just stared forward into her mirror and wondered why in the world Santana had the audacity to cry over Finn. Nevertheless, Santana was crying and she came to sit behind Rachel. Rachel didn't necessarily do anything to deter or prevent the Latina from wrapping her tan legs around Rachel's skinny waist, but she also didn't encourage it.

She watched, steadily, as Santana pulled out a brush and started to brush through not as tangled as it could be hair. She brushed long strokes and it was soothing. So soothing it caused Rachel to fall asleep in slender unsure arms that were no longer there when she woke.

The second night, it was the same. Rachel synched her breaths with Santana's and counted her tears in the mirror. She despised the feel of Santana's burning legs on her body because it increased how ridiculously hot it always was in the room, but just like the night before, she didn't push her away.

Rachel figured that that was just how Santana is when she's grieving.

Rachel, on the third night, didn't count Santana's tears (or lack thereof) or her own tears (which were still plenty), but she focused on synching their breaths again. She wondered if Santana knew what she was trying to do because her breathing pattern was shallow then deep and… not a pattern at all. If Rachel wasn't so concerned about herself, then she would have been very worried about Santana. That night Santana's tugs became a little rougher and the brush no longer flowed through her hair with the delicate, soothing, grace that it usually did.

The next few nights, Santana didn't come to her room- Rachel's not even sure what time she got home (or if she got home in the first place). But Rachel did wait for her as long as she could, sitting in the middle of the bed, legs crossed, glaring at her reflection.

She tried to deny the twinge of disappointment she felt whenever she'd wake the next day and realize that Santana wasn't there last night.

Rachel was ecstatic when Santana came back. Something about there being a warm (even though she could argue that Santana is _too_ warm) body beside her eases the tension in her muscles. She bears Santana's angry brush strokes and tries to keep her head from moving around too much.

Once all the curls of the day were brushed out and straightened to what Rachel figured was Santana's liking, soft but firm hands began working her scalp. Santana tugged and pulled her hair with one hand while the other massaged her scalp. She made a mess of the pristine brush job she completed moments earlier. Rachel fell asleep with Santana's hands still in her hair and woke up with nothing pressing on her scalp.

One evening, Rachel startled herself when she realized she wasn't crying. There were no more silent tears- no more muffled sniffling- just a straight face staring softly at Santana as if she was the broken one. Rachel's head moved around with the tugs of the brush and she closed her eyes to keep from dizzying herself. This time, when Santana finished, she rested her chin on Rachel's shoulder and wrapped her arms under Rachel's chest. She tried not to flinch when long, highlighted hair tickled her arm.

Rachel, having already synched their breaths, never opened her eyes after Santana wrapped around her. Even when she was sure by the irregular breathing rhythm that Santana started crying. Even when she felt a splatter on her shoulder. Then Santana started rocking them. She rocked to the beat of her own sad, unfinished love story that Rachel translated from the pounding of their combined hearts.

Finn's side of the bed slowly started to smell like Santana and Rachel was kind of okay with that.

Santana's break was longer this time than the last and Rachel slept on top of her comforter for two and a half weeks hoping that sometime in the night, a tropical feeling body would lay next to her. Rachel, of course, would never admit it.

Santana did, much to Rachel's pleasure, come back. The hair brushing was like the first time, gentle and rhythmic. So was Santana's breathing and heartbeat. For the first time, she let herself think about Santana's life. Just everything about it and she realized that she knew nothing. So she asked questions.

"Did you learn to cook from your mom?" was the first one. Santana, whenever she cooked for them, always cooked the best food- even vegan. The brushing stopped and Rachel, afraid she asked the wrong question looked up at the mirror. She made eye contact with Santana who took a deep breath.

"_Mami_," she said, "loved to cook."

And Rachel found out all types of things about Santana.

Like one time she thought she was a boy which prompted her _abuela_ to show her the difference between the two and her _Tio Jamito_ taught her how to fix a car. She absolutely _loathed_ it when her favorite cousin _Antonio _called her _nene _because "I'm two and a quarter years older than him!"

Rachel learned a bit of Spanish, too because Santana would sometimes go into a little rant in the language. She can't really understand others' Spanish, though… only Santana's.

Then there was another spell where Santana stopped coming, but Rachel slept peacefully nonetheless. She did get under the covers even though she left enough room on Finn's side in case Santana decided to come in the middle of the night.

It was a random night when Santana was saying something about Quinn when Rachel was taken over by some crazy thing.

She turned around suddenly, locking Santana's fingers in her hair and furiously pressed her mouth against Santana's.

It wasn't like anything she'd experienced before.

Finn's kisses were always sweet but a little sloppy and… well… she has never really kissed anyone else. Santana's lips moved against hers with a certain friction that made Rachel hunger for more. "¿Qué estás hacienda?" Santana demanded. Rachel felt something like guilt or shame rise up in her throat and Santana tugged her hand out of Rachel's hair.

She searched Santana's eyes for something unknown to her. "I don't know what I'm doing, Santana," she breathed. "But I want more."

So Santana took her to places she had never been before. She showed her new heights and wonders- she brought her to bliss and back and Rachel, once it was over, quietly murmured "You were my first."

Santana's eyes lit up in a dangerous way but she simply nodded.

Eyes reading something on the ceiling, she fell asleep with Santana beside her, and woke up alone for the first time in forever (minus the times Santana wasn't there to begin with).

And, unsurprisingly to Rachel, Santana didn't make an appearance for a while.

But when Santana did come back, she carried Rachel around the world bringing Rachel to new depths- showing her things she never knew.

She tried not to go back to her old crying habit when Santana announced, "I don't know what the hell we're doing, but we can't do it anymore." She also tried not to listen to the slowly finishing love story Santana's heart was telling her as Santana held her _like that_ for the last time.

Rachel retaliated by letting Santana, for a brief time, think that the wig was her real hair. It was comical the way Santana pursed her sweet lips and rolled her sensual eyes when Rachel pulled the wig off.

And their relationship was normal for a while. Until Santana auditioned and got the part as Rachel's understudy anyway… Rachel just didn't get why Santana had to bug her like that.

Something inside of Rachel whispered that it's because Santana has to hurt the ones she loves to get over them, but Rachel doesn't care.

…

So she's in the bathroom crying because of Santana. It's completely absurd and ridiculous and she just… _Ugh._ Even though it's Santana's fault she's crying, all she wants is the girl to hold her in her arms and whisper strings of broken English mended with Spanish in her ear. But Santana's with Brittany somewhere and relishing in her latest performance of bullying Rachel.

Maybe if she hadn't snapped and stayed cool about the understudy thing, there would still be a mini chance Santana would come brush her hair and do _other things_ (that Rachel has yet to call by its proper name) at night. And maybe she could've spent all that energy that she did in being mad, showing Santana that _whatever the hell they were doing_ was _okay._ But she didn't. And now she's sure she's lost Santana to Brittany (she never worried about Dani because Santana didn't smile right around her).

Everyone gets who they want in the end. Rachel sees that. Everyone. Except for her. And she'll try to get Santana back as a friend because, Rachel does not think she can fall in love again only to have her heart broken.

…

Opening night, her two best friends are sitting front row, one of them mouthing all of Rachel's lines and lyrics but eyes entranced, the other grinning.

From the amount of doting she gets, it's like she had two sets of parents. Two of them her real dads and one of the others smelling like Finn's side of the bed.

Rachel sits in her dressing room until everyone is gone and when everyone's gone, Santana comes in, pulls up a chair behind Rachel's (who's looking in the vanity at herself) and starts to brush out the wig bound hair. She brushes long into the night- until every person underage is asleep and every person of age is completely drunk.

Rachel keeps her eyes focused on Santana the whole time, synchs their breathing patterns, and imagines Santana's heartbeat and savors the feel of the pads of Santana's fingers in her hair.

"I'm sorry," Santana breathes. It's Rachel's turn to do nothing but nod. Santana sets a beautiful vintage looking brush down beside Rachel and she turns her head. She stares into eyes that _are_ very much sorry so she smiles in a futile attempt to signal that it's okay even though it isn't. Not at all.

It's like their lips gravitate towards each other because Rachel didn't really initiate anything. Rachel is sure that she's trying to get drunk off of the kiss, hungrily palming at the girl's bare shoulders.

Santana pulls away first and gives a little smile in Rachel's direction. "You were great, Rach."

"Thanks," she looks down bashfully. "For everything." Rachel nods in the general direction of the brush.

"Thank you, too."

Rachel won't cry. She won't. She refuses, so she looks out the window at the view she's seen so many times before. Santana pecks her cheek.

"I love you," Rachel breathes. She figures, she might as well say it because she and Santana are probably never getting together.

"You can do so much better than me."

Rachel turns sharply and watches Santana exit the room. Rachel wants to call after her, tell her that she _is_ so much better than… than well whatever it is that's out there and Santana is as _better_ as it gets but she doesn't.

…

She might be going crazy, because now she's imagining things- playing scenarios in her head that will never happen (but she's half-way asleep, so dreaming is permitted- at least that's how Rachel justifies it).

"You really did great tonight."

Rachel's not sure if the voice is Finn or Santana or who the fingers dancing down her spine belong too.

"I'm so proud of you," Finn whispers.

"Goodnight, love," Santana says.

And Rachel guesses she'll be okay.

* * *

_Yeah, I don't know what happened at the end there... Tell me what you think? -SW_


End file.
